


mornings

by Keturagh



Series: False Fruit [25]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Waking Up Beside Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keturagh/pseuds/Keturagh
Summary: It's the turning point before the sad. (✿◕‿◕)
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Fen'Harel/Female Lavellan, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Series: False Fruit [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579504
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	mornings

There’s an urgency to how he holds her in the night: arms like twisted sheets, his chest pressed against her back and sticky with his sweat, his mouth on her shoulder — his head moves sometimes in the night, his dreams troubled, and she feels his lips gently brushing her skin. Pangara has come to expect the tactics of his right leg, pushing: its persistent sliding nudges until her own leg is shoved flat and his hips and knee settle victorious over her, and he’s warm and heavy and curled close into her shape.

She wakes and jerks. When his arms stay tight around her, she knows that he’s still dreaming. The edge of the bed sits against her cheek, and, yes — another night, and she’s practically hanging off the bed. Pangara glares straight down at their cups from last night, an empty plate, and the floor.

“You pushed me off the bed.”

“I did no such thing.”

“You _practically_ pushed me off the bed.”

“According to you, I was moreso holding you back from the edge.”

“According to you, I’ll end up falling off the bed. And probably into the Fade. You’re a thief. A bed stealer. You stole the whole bed.”

He chuckles. “That was… a sleeping me.”

“Oh, sleep Solas? He can’t be trusted?”

She likes to bicker with him for as long as he’ll enjoy her breakfast with her: honeyed berries and soft rye bread.

“That’s right.” His smile is soft and admits a little guilt. “So it seems.”

When he goes she misses him wrapped around her, misses his sweat and his too-long, too-tight arms, and his sleepy unknowing kisses, and she has the whole bed.


End file.
